Pirates of the Caribbean: The Medallion's Call
by MKKennedyGupta
Summary: AU: After the mutiny, "Bootstrap" Bill was cast into the sea and rescued by the Royal Navy. He met Elizabeth. He "grew" with her, but five years later, the mutineers returned. He didn't know what to do now that his friend, his admired was gone. All he knew was there was an old friend rotting in a prison cell who could help. So, show us what you can do, Jack Sparrow.
1. Prologue: Before the Curse

A/N: First of all, we're completely ignoring the fact that elves don't grow beards until the third cycle of their lives. Creative license, man. Even though this isn't ours. If it were, we wouldn't be writing on a fanfiction site, would we?

All the spelling errors related to speech are there on purpose. We don't know pirate speak, but we've made a (terrible) attempt at it.

* * *

_This is an account of true events gathered through witnesses. All the persons involved in these happenings have kept their true names. Before we begin, I would like to thank Hector Barbossa, Jack Sparrow, "William Turner" (we all know who you really are), Joshamee Gibbs, and Elizabeth Swann, as well as the crew of the Black Pearl, for your aid in completing this history. _

_~F/M J.N._

On the Black Pearl, they still called him a lad. Even though he was supposedly in his forties, he was the baby of the ship. Because of his young face, he was knocked about and given all the menial tasks. That was when the captain wasn't keeping an eye on him. But when Jack was there, things were different. Jack was his friend, his mentor even, and he treated Bill Turner as a colleague.

When Barbossa betrayed Jack, everything changed. No longer was he welcome on the ship. No longer did he consider the Black Pearl his home. His time as a pirate was over (for now). It was time to leave.

He would not go without exacting his revenge, though. He knew the consequences – of course he knew them. He remembered Cortes' terrible curse. He just didn't care, and he thought he could handle the repercussions of taking one of the Aztec medallions. He didn't think he would have to hide from the moonlight for the next two years. So he made his plan. When they docked at Tortuga, he would make off with a medallion. He would lay low and find a ship to carry him as far from the Caribbean as he could get. They would never find him.

And so he set off. But he miscalculated. Barbossa had seen him skulk away with a piece of gold, _his_ gold, at the Isla de Muerta. He had also hatched a plan. Another treacherous plan.

It was a regular day, just like any other. Bill rose, he worked, and he spied, looking for land or a ship. It wasn't until mid afternoon that things turned for the worse.

Barbossa stalked across the deck, pompous as a peacock, towards him. Turner whipped around when he heard the boots stop behind him.

"Ahoy, Turner! How be you on this mighty fine day?" he said.

"I'm fine, sir. And you?"

"I am… malcontented," he declared. "Want t' know why?"

Bill did not like the sound of that. Barbossa liked showing off his vast lexicon, especially when he was angry, frustrated, disappointed… dissatisfied, as it were.

"Why, sir?" Bill gulped. He had a feeling he knew what this was about.

"I caught myself a thief. A pirate who steals from pirates," the hypocrite said, "Ya see, I saw this dog make off with _my _bone instead o' keepin' his greedy paws t' hisself."

Damn. He thought no one noticed. He had stolen things years and years before Barbossa even existed - how did he make a blunder such as this?

"And now I'm thinking 'It does not make a wink o' sense. Why did he not escape at Tortuga?' But I realize why now. Yer stupid, filthy robbin' scum, William Turner!"

By now, he had drawn the attention of the rest of the crew. Some had gathered around, the filthy smirks on their faces growing as the Captain continued.

"Now, the only question is what t' do with ya... What d'ya think, men?"

There was a lot of shouting and unintelligible babbling after those words, but Bill could just make out things like "Slit 'is throat", "Shoot 'im", and "chop 'im up and feed 'im to the sharks!" But the one that caught Barbossa's heart was this: "Tie a cannon to 'is bootstraps and walk 'im off the plank!"

Before anyone could do anything, though, the lookout was off, weaving through flailing hands and treading lightly and quickly. He flew across the deck, heading towards the main mast to climb up and into the sky, where he had the advantage. After all, he was raised with trees. He knew his way around them and better yet, he was at home at the tops of them - and of the ship - from which he swore he could never fall.

He had almost made it out of arm's reach when a hand grabbed his foot and ripped him down, causing him to crash onto the hard wooden deck below. Then a hand was in his hair, clasping the faux black strands and yanking until Bill was face to face with his attacker - with his supposed captain. The man smiled a shark like smile and said, "Now I think ya better apologize for that, young'un."

Now, there's something you need to understand about Bill. He may stoop to levels below the furthest reaches of the sea to get what he wants, but by no means does that allude to the fact that he's not prideful. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It may be his years of experience in the world or the way he was raised that made him a bit egotistical, thinking that his qualities were better than all on this ship combined - whether that's true or not isn't relevant. But when a man or woman tries to shame him, he retaliates, no matter what damage it will cause him later.

So obviously he had to spit in the traitor's face.

His harasser growled with rage. How dare this bilge rat degrade him so? He would pay for this!

Barbossa dragged the deceptively young man by the hair to the side of the ship and threw him on the ground. The "exit" lay menacingly in front of him. But Bill wasn't out for the count yet. He still had his sword, which he drew to chop off the long hair he loved so much. Now the hair that flowed down to his lower back would only just reach past his chin (fortunately, though, it was still covering his ears).

He wasted no time and shot up, trying to get any place on the ship where he'd be safe, of which there was none, for nameless crew members (Bill Turner had never been considered the most social of creatures) gathered and shoved him back towards Barbossa.

"I think I'll do what Pintel suggested, _Bootstrap_ Bill," he barked. "Someone fetch me a cannon!" The rest of the crew laughed.

Several men scurried off to the gun deck to hoist one up. Meanwhile, the others converged on the poor, isolated pirate.

"Search 'im, lads!"

Bill knew that if they searched him, they would find the trinket and an ancient and priceless elvish dagger tucked away in his right boot. He struggled and kicked and bit at the assaulters accosting him.

"It's too late!" he said. "The medallion is gone!" he was just making this up, but he hoped they bought it. However unlikely it was, it was worth a shot.

Barbossa stepped towards him and all movement ceased. "What d'ya mean, 'gone'?"

Mr. Turner smirked. "You should have kept a better eye on me in Tortuga, sir. I paid the piece of gold to a lovely young barmaid."

Barbossa drew a pistol from his belt, placed the barrel on Bill's forehead. "Methinks ye be wanting to tell who this barmaid be." Bill eyed the bastard, then shook his head.

"Why? Do you actually believe in the curse now?"

The captain might have gulped for a second, but it really wasn't clear. But then he sneered and cocked the gun. "Tell me now!"

"I'd never tell a lying rotten scumbag like yourself the weather, never mind this! You deserve to be cursed! And stay cursed! Curse you to Davy Jones' Locker!"

"I believe it's you who'll be going there." Before Bill could react, the captain slammed the gun on his head, knocking him to the ground.

"Well," he sighed as he slid the pistol back. "No matter; I've still had enough of yer griping about Jack Sparrow as if you were better than us. None of the crew can stand you! not even Pintel and Ragetti! You only hinder us! This just means there be one less mouth to feed."

'Bootstrap's' stomach dropped to his boots. So Barbossa would carry out the plan - he wasn't just bluffing to scare Bill.

The young looking "man" may have been strong, but not even he could fight a whole boatload of armed and dangerous sailors at once. If only he had his bow.

And then he was being pulled this way and that until he was press-ganged all the way back to where his hair lay scattered on the deck. The long, inviting plank stared at him.

Pirates don't waste time and so the twelve pound cannon was already waiting for its unwilling companion.

Bill quickly found himself being pulled by the ankles to the edge, but before he was thrown onto the plank, a tall, dark man with long dreadlocks did as Barbossa ordered, clutching Bill's feet and roping a cord through his bootstraps. Then, he was lifted onto his feet. Barbossa unsheathed his sword and pointed it at him.

"Now walk the plank like a good gent, and I shant gut ya like a fish!" said the former first mate.

Bill's feet betrayed him and he slowly turned around. He padded out and across the small, wobbly board. What always was such a small, trivial thing now seemed a mile long. And that mile would be filled with anguish and terror of what would happen next.

As soon as he reached the edge of the board, he turned back, only to see that the crew had already heaved the heavy cannon to the edge of the boat. So this is how it ends, he thought. After all these years, I didn't expect to be killed by pirates, least of all Barbossa.

Barbossa eyed him for the last time in nearly three years as he pushed the cannon. "Goodbye, Bootstrap Bill Turner."

And then he was falling.


	2. Chapter 1: A Pirate's Life

A/N: Welcome back, to those who happened to stumble upon this story and somehow retained interest! It's nice to be back. Thanks to whomever has read this story and we hope you like it. And I'm an idiot, by the way (This is , whereas is my counterpart); I watched the movie several times to write my own script to these scenes when I could have just found a script online.

And to all you _YGO - The Abridged Series_ lovers, the reference is there on purpose.

FYI: For the sake of this story, we have raised Elizabeth's age during the crossing from England from around twelve to about eighteen. Will will be around the same age.

Chapter 1: A Pirate's Life

It was a dreary, grey morning. One could barely see past his or her fingertips, much less navigate a ship. But alas, the crew of this unfortunate vessel was trying its best not to get any of the passengers killed in this frightful weather..  
It was silent as a mausoleum. If you listened closely, however, you could hear a faint voice singing a haunting tune.

_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me_

The young woman, Elizabeth, ignored everything around her except whatever she was imagining in the fog, as that was where she was looking and there really was nothing to see there.

_We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot_

_Drink up me hearties, yo ho_

_We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot_

_Drink up me hearties, yo ho_

It was nostalgia, mostly, that made her sing. When she was a little girl, she was extremely fascinated by pirates. Now, she had lost that interest. She considered them... well, she didn't fear them, but she didn't care for them either. She believed that people who couldn't do an honest day's work to earn the food on their tables and the clothes on their backs didn't deserve her attention. It really was hypocritical of her, as she was singing the song.

_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's - _

"Quiet, missy! Cursed pirates sail these waters. You don't want to bring 'em down on us, do you?" Mr. Gibbs, the superstitious man she tried to steer clear of had grabbed her shoulder, shaking her a little. He stared at her with wide eyes that seemed never to blink and she couldn't help but look away.  
"_Mr. Gibbs_, that will do!" James Norrington, her savior, had arrived. No, he wasn't really her savior, but really, she couldn't be gladder to see someone right now, even if he looked at her a little oddly at times. It wasn't that she hated Joshamee Gibbs... she just didn't like to be around him. She wouldn't realise until later that he would be handy in a tight situation.  
"She was singing about pirates. Bad luck to be singing about pirates with us mired in this unnatural fog - mark my words!"  
"Consider them marked," said Norrington. "On your way."  
"Aye, Lieutenant," said Gibbs, "It's bad luck to have a woman on board, too... even a _miniature_ one." he muttered.

"I think it'd be rather exciting to meet a pirate," she said. "Maybe it would give father a reason to let me learn to fight." She smirked.

Norrington smiled a bitter smile at her. "Think again, Miss Swann. Vile and dissolute creatures, the lot of them. I intend to see to it that any man who sails under a pirate flag or wears a pirate brand gets what he deserves - a short drop and a sudden stop."

Elizabeth scrunched up her nose. She had never approved of hangings, and to hear him talking so casually about such things irked her.

"Lieutenant Norrington, I appreciate your fervor, but I'm, uh, I'm concerned about the effect this subject will have upon my daughter," said her overprotective father. He always thought he could shield her like a little child. He never realised just how much she already knew about the world.

"My apologies, Governor Swann."

She sighed and turned to her father. "It's not that I don't appreciate it, but you don't have to protect me from everything."  
Her father wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "There are things in this world you _need_ protecting from, Elizabeth. Things that even you couldn't dream of." He squeezed her and let her go, crossing the deck to talk with Norrington.  
She did believe her father, but it was annoying to be cooped up all the time like a pet. Women were not just the property of men! They deserved to fight and work and be independent like men were! Oh, but her father didn't understand and probably never would. He was a man, after all.  
She stared down at the water, looking for something (anything) to interest her. The journey thus far had been very long and very grueling, and it showed no sign of getting better.  
There! A... what was that? An umbrella? What was that doing there? No one would just throw an umbrella overboard - what was that? There was a board in the distance with something on it. Was that..?  
"A man! Look, there's a man in the water!" she shouted. The lieutenant and several crewmembers looked over the side of the ship.  
"MAN OVERBOARD!" shouted Norrington. "Man the ropes. Fetch a Hook! Haul him aboard."

Several men cast lines and in no time, they had the man on the boat. Norrington raised his chest from the floor and listened. "He's still breathing."

Meanwhile, Gibbs looked in the same direction Elizabeth had previously been watching. "Mary, Mother of God!" he declared.

While Elizabeth stayed and watched the unconscious man, the governor and lieutenant followed Gibbs' gaze.

"What happened here?" said her father.

Norrington replied, "It's most likely the powder magazine. Merchant vessels run heavily armed."

Gibbs snorted. "A lot of good it did them! Everyone's thinking it, I'm just saying it. Pirates!"

Weatherby Swann laughed a nervous laugh. "There's no proof of that. It was probably an accident."

"Rouse the Captain immediately!" ordered Norrington, "Heave to and take in sail! Launch the boats!"

Weatherby walked over to his daughter. He had to get her away from this somehow. "Elizabeth, I want you to accompany the boy. He'll be in your charge so take care of him."

She knew what her father was doing, but she didn't really care at the moment. She was curious. She wanted to know who the boy was and what he was doing there. He was really beautiful. And he couldn't have been out there long; he was freshly shaved... she didn't know why she noticed that.

She reached up to stroke his face. His skin was soft. Suddenly, his hand shot up and grabbed hers. He was gasping, shrieking almost, and choking on the water he had no doubt swallowed during his short stay in the ocean. "It's okay," she said to calm him down. "My name's Elizabeth Swann."

In his delirium, he said what had been his habitual response for years. "W-W-William Turner."

_He remembered falling, crashing, sinking. There was a weight, pulling, pulling him down. And everything was blue. Wait - blue? Ocean! This was the ocean. Yes, yes! The traitorous cur had pushed him of the side of a ship! But there was something about William Turner that they didn't know. He could hold his breath longer than any man and swim harder and lift more weight. So as he struggled not to breathe in, he reached into his right boot. There was something there - something that would help him. But what was it?_

"You're a... pirate!"

_Why couldn't he remember?_

"Take him inside!"

_Oh, a dagger! One gifted to him by his father and one that would save his life. If only he could get it out!_

_Bubbles escaped his throat. Quickly, he was reaching even his limit. Why were his boots so tight? Or maybe his hands were too big..._

_His eyes were stinging. Why were they stinging? What was happening? And his mouth tasted of salt for some reason. There was something he had wanted to do... his boot! Yes, his boot!_

_Suddenly, he felt the hilt of something. He gripped it and tugged and it came free surprisingly quickly. _

_Yes, now he could escape. He lowered the knife to his bonds and started hacking away at the rope, hoping and praying that it would break soon. He was losing air quickly. _  
_ Then he was free. But he had no purchase. There... was nothing here to push off of to get to the surface in time! He wasn't going... to make it. He kicked and pushed and flailed his arms, trying to get up... to the surface... faster... But... it wasn't working._  
_ He couldn't... do this... But... he couldn't die... like this..._  
_ No..._

"Where?" he croaked. "Where? Water! Please!"  
"Sh, William. You're safe here." A soft hand rubbed his forehead before tipping his head up and pressing something - a glass of water - up to his lips. He drank as he'd never done before. "Sh, slow down. It's all going to be fine, William. I'm here. Do you remember me?"  
"E-Elizabeth..."

_He woke in a small cabin on a rocking ship he would come to know as the _Princess_. The room was lightened by the sun shining through a porthole window. _  
_ "I see you're awake," someone said. He whipped around to find a rather old man sitting on his right, opposite the window. _  
_ "Who-" he paused to cough. "Who are you?"_  
_ "I am a passenger on this ship, the _Princess_, as well as the stand in doctor..." the man chuckled for a reason lost to Bill. "Now, are you going to tell me why you were floating about in the middle of the ocean with a knife in your hand and no ship in sight?"_  
_ But the stranded pirate would tell him neither who he was nor who he was pretending to be. He assumed that even the most insignificant pirate could be recognized (of course he was wrong; only the most significant pirates were remembered. All others were dispensable to both sides.). _

"_My name is... Sam Baggins," he said the first thing to cross his mind. "I was... on a merchant vessel headed for England to visit my father when we were attacked by pirates. I didn't have a weapon, just a knife father had gifted to me years ago, so I used it to defend myself. But we didn't stand a _ghost_ of a chance. They quickly overtook us and the few of us who could abandoned ship, as the captain ordered. Then... I remember nothing. All I can recall is waking on this ship." _

"_I see... Well, Mr. Baggins, I am going to warn the captain; we don't want to be sailing through pirate infested seas, now do we? There is water on the table next to you, so help yourself. But for now, get your rest. On the morrow, we'll put you to work. We need all the aid we can get." _

_Bill nodded. Once the man was gone, he rose and treaded over to the basin of water. There was a cracked mirror leaned up against the wall and a razor he assumed was the doctor's. It was a pretty thing with a spiral of metal at the bottom. He thought that maybe it was more decorative than for usage, but he didn't care - he had finally escaped that pirate ship and he needed to trim the scraggly beard he had grown to mask his young features. It was so long it almost touched his pectoral muscles. _

_The razor grazed his skin and he cut himself plenty of times, but eventually the job was done and he looked like a young man again._

"He's waking, father!" Elizabeth ran to the upper deck to reach her father. "William Turner is awake!"

Both the lieutenant and the governor stopped what they were doing (looking at several scattered papers - Elizabeth didn't care what they were for.) and turned to her.

"Are you sure?" asked her father. "The last time he just went straight back to sleep."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, I think he's coming back to us at last." The three of them headed to the cabin where the boy rested. They were almost there when they heard a loud 'crack!' and a yelp of pain. The young woman paled and rushed back into the room.

William had been trying to reach the pail of water, but it was just out of his reach and he tumbled out of bed and onto his knees, cursing as he did so. The boarded floor was not a comfortable place. Suddenly, a woman was by his side, holding his arm to steady him. He jerked back from the touch.

"Who - where - not again!" William started.

Now he noticed that there were two men - one older and one young - by the door. The woman who had helped him was now crouching before him. She was a beautiful girl, really, and he was kind of glad that she was the first person he saw upon waking. She opened her mouth to speak, but the young man beat her to it.

"I am Lieutenant James Norrington, this is Governor Weatherby Swann, and this is his daughter, Elizabeth Swann," he said, indicating each person with his hand.

"Elizabeth?" he recalled the name. He had heard it in his dreams... "So you're the one who helped me..?"

"Yes, yes I was there when we dragged you out of the sea!" she exclaimed, happy that he remembered her.

Before he could say anything, Norrington started talking again. "You are the last survivor of the ship called _Princess_. Tell us what exactly happened there."

"Wait - last survivor?" he couldn't be. What about the doctor? and the captain and crew and all the passengers and the little girl who gave him her handkerchief?

His conflict must have shown on his face because the expression on the lieutenant's own face softened and Elizabeth reached over and grabbed his hand.

"I'm sorry for your losses," said the governor. "But these waters _are_ dangerous. We'll need to take precautions based on what you've told us. I don't mean to disrespect the dead, but I think it would be a lot better if another ship weren't destroyed as the _Princess_ was.

Bill breathed in deeply.

"It's okay, Will," said Elizabeth. Will? Where had that come from?

He nodded and began. "I was on the boat to visit father..."

_He had been on the ship for about a week when he finally familiarised himself with the ship and crew. Many were kind and welcoming and not at all what Bill expected from sailors of any type. Maybe it was just because he was used to pirates. _

_Cap'n Anthony was a homely, healthy sized man with black hair, beefy arms, and a warm smile. Jeoffrey, the cook, was snarky and sarcastic, but loyal to a fault. Ann-Marie and her daughter were fascinated with his tales of his adventures on the sea (the fact that he was a pirate was left out). They were currently travelling to visit a male relative and were also related to the captain, which was the main reason the crew members kept quiet about their gender. Then there was the doctor. His name was Jonathan Beckett (no relation to Cutler Beckett). The poor, kind old man had lost his wife in childbirth and his sons and daughter to pneumonia and had come out to sea because there was no other purpose left in his life. Bill had immediately taken a liking to him and when he was not climbing from mast to mast or scrubbing the decks or carrying out whatever job the captain had allotted for him that day, he would go back to the cabin that he and the doctor now shared and discuss everything from pirate booty to the flowers that bloomed in the Americas this time of year. _

_It wasn't until halfway through his third week that things started to go wrong. _

_In one of his rare moments of free time, Bill could be found eating an apple and leaning on the railing on the port side of the boat. He reached down and raised the medallion from his boot, staring at it pensively. _

_It was odd. He never really stopped to think about how the curse would manifest. He never thought it would be... like this. He couldn't taste anything. He didn't even know why he was feigning eating anymore. The wind didn't caress his face and he couldn't smell the sea breeze. And the touch... peoples' touches didn't warm him anymore. He couldn't be heated, frozen, or bothered at all. He couldn't feel anything. Well, almost. _

_The only thing he felt was a gnawing decay that crept up his bones and seized his heart, holding the rest of his body hostage as it expropriated the strength from his soul. He could see it, too. When he was standing in the moonlight in front of his porthole and he looked down at his hands, he could see the rot eating his flesh away. After that, he tended to shy away from the moonlight. _

"_Mr. Baggins!" he jolted out of his reverie and in his panic, the gold slipped from his fingers and plummeted into the water below. _

"_NO!" he yelled, shedding his (Beckett's) coat and diving off after it. _

"_What are you doing?!" shouted someone from the deck, but he couldn't identify the voice for he was submerged in the icy blues of the Atlantic. _  
_ Cold. Everything was so cold and numbing and he felt as though his limbs were drifting apart and away. There was no sound but a deep rumbling that sounded as though he were wrapped in a raging lion's maw. His eyes stung, but he couldn't shut them. No, he had to find it!_  
_ A shine caught his eye and he reached, stretching as far as he could, and his fingers clasped the chain of his necklace. It seemed as though it were pulsing like a heartbeat and he could hear it calling him, calling _them_, through the ocean. Quickly, he tucked it into his pocket and forced himself to the surface. _  
_ "You blithering idiot, are you mad?!" said Frederick May, another of the sailors, as he tossed a rope down to Bill, who scaled it at an alarming pace._  
_ Once back on board, he plopped his shivering hide on the main deck. He expected no sympathy from the other sailors; what he had done was stupid and he knew it. He shouldn't have even had the thing out in the first place. If he lost it, there was even less of a chance of lifting the curse than before. _  
_ "Mr. Baggins?" said a small voice behind him. "Why are you so wet?"_  
_ He turned to Victoria, Ann-Marie's eight year old daughter, and smiled. "Because silly old me jumped in the sea."_  
_ She blinked naively. "Why would you do that?"_  
_ "Because, Miss Victoria, I'm all fluff up here," he knocked his head. "No thoughts to tell me what's stupid and what's isn't."_  
_ She giggled. "But why are you still wet? Why don't you dry off?"_  
_ "Again, nothing in my brain to help me there."_  
_ "Well, you can use my handkerchief." she handed him a little embroidered thing with shades of pink and blue sewn into it. It truly was the oddest handkerchief he had ever seen. _  
_ "Oh, thank you, kind lady. I don't know where I would have been without this."_  
_ She suddenly looked very sternly at him. "But you had better take care of it! I made it myself."_  
_ "You made it yourself? You are quite the talented seamstress, if I may say so myself."_

_He chatted with her and ignored the paranoid cold that ran down his back at the thought of the ship, _that ship_, catching up to them. But that was impossible. That wouldn't happen. _

_Oh, how wrong he was._

_ It was dark... all was silent. It was one of the few nights he dared venture out after dark and it was only because the moon was obscured by a barricade of clouds. Everything was obscured by a barricade of clouds. He couldn't see past his nose. Great! Now he could see nothing _and _feel nothing. He supposed the feeling nothing part couldn't be _that _bad, though. He might not have been able to feel the good things in life, but the same could be said for the bad things._  
_ I suppose masochists would be screwed either way._  
BOOM.  
_ There was a sloshing of water to the right, almost too loud to be waves lapping up against the boat. It wasn't until he heard the low whistling of a fired cannonball that he knew everything had gone wrong. The ship was doomed because of him. _  
_ "Cannon fire!" he shouted. Shouts from below deck warned him that the crew had heard him. _  
_ "Man the cannons!" shouted the first mate._  
_ The captain clambered up onto the deck. "Belay that! Turn her around! We flee!"_  
_ "But cap-"_  
_ "We may be heavily armed, but that's not enough to save us! That's a pirate ship! It will overtake us and we will be slaughtered!" he bellowed as the crew bustled about, preparing to flee. _

"_We have to stand and fight, sir! Our dignity will be lost if we run!" said the first mate._

_The captain glared at him. "I'll forgive that comment because you're young and aren't experienced in seafare. Pride isn't a concern out here! What matters is surviving!"_

_But it was too late. Men started swinging from that evil ship to the merchant vessel. _

_Then Bill heard Barbossa cackling. "Gents, here's a treat for ya! We kill 'em all! And someone find me that blasted medallion!"_

_The other crew roared with mirth. One of them - Twigg, if he remembered correctly - shouted "Let's get 'em!" and leaped onto the _Princess_, tackling the captain. Bill tore across the ship towards them and put all his weight into the punch that blew Twigg off the captain. _

_Anthony looked at him bewildered. "Th-thank you, young man."_

"_No problem," said "Sam". He then unsheathed a sword borrowed from the ship's cargo hold and attacked the man he had just assaulted. He bashed the hilt into the pirate's skull and dropped him like a stone._

"_Captain!" he shouted. "What are we going to do?"_

_The cap'n took out his pistol and shot another pirate. Bill heard a scream below decks._

_Ann-Marie, Victoria, and Jonathan! What was -There was an explosion, a loud 'BOOM'', then everything went silent, save for the ringing in his ears. A torrent of ice water enveloped him and he flailed and splashed, trying to find out where he was, what was going on, and if there was anything to grab on to. There! A piece of... wood, maybe? Yes, it was a slab of wood, maybe a piece of the ship that had been blasted off by the cannon. He heaved himself onto it and let go of everything, dropping onto his savior like a sack of potatoes, losing all will to fight, and slipping into unconsciousness._


	3. Chapter 2: HisHers

A/N: Hello once again, dear readers. We updated more quickly than we expect to do last time. But from now on, it'll probably be a slower update. Sorry :) But we still hope you enjoy our story and I think I ( ) can speak for both of us when I say we enjoy writing this story. I warn you, this may get a bit repetitive, but hang on a while and it'll start to deviate.

Oh, and one thing to clear up: In this AU, Legolas and Gimli never sailed west. They instead continued to travel and Legolas only started living on his own when Gimli died. He stayed with his kin for a while, but he quickly grew disenchanted with this life after all his adventures with Gimli and decided to continue traveling.

* * *

Chapter 2: His/Hers

Brown eyes snapped open and began to focus. For a moment, Elizabeth could tell neither who she was or where she was, but as she woke from her dream, her life came streaming back into her mind. She hadn't thought about her meeting with her mysterious friend, Will, for a long time. Really, she hadn't thought of Will for a while either. It must have been at least three weeks since she last saw him.

But thinking of Will brought thoughts of more sinister things to mind. The medallion. It had been two and a half years since she had laid her eyes on the bright, golden hues of the ancient treasure. For some reason, she now wanted to hold it.

She rose from her warm cocoon of blankets and stretched a little before stepping over to her bureau and taking the necklace out of the secret compartment she had made.

It was dusty, this relic of hers - _his_. How had she forgotten about it? Now that she looked upon it once more, it felt as though it would be imprinted in her memory forever. That and the thought that her dear William could once have been a pirate.

* * *

Will Turner stood in the parlor in the governor's house, waiting for his customer to greet him and view his merchandise. He hadn't seen the governor and his daughter for a while - almost a month. And it had been even longer since he had been to this house. There were many changes. For example, this sconce on the wall. It had not been there before.

In his boredom (because he was bored; he had been waiting for almost twenty minutes.), he moved closer to inspect it. It was rather uninteresting thing, dull and black with no distinguishing features. Still, he reached up and grabbed one of the candle holders and -

Oh Valar... why did he do that? What was he going to do now, stuff it in his pocket? No, there was a vase. He could shove it into that and hope no one would notice.

He did it just in time for the governor to walk in. "Ah, Mr. Turner, good to see you again."

"Good day, sir," he said as he put the case he had been holding on the table. "I have your order."

Governor Swann took out the sword and unsheathed it to admire the blade. And like a true salesman, William praised the blade as much as he could without sounding conceited.

"The blade is folded steel. That's gold filigree laid into the handle." He said, indicating the lines of the precious metal. " If I may," he asks, taking the sword and balancing it on his finger. "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade." And just to show off, he pulled a trick he had learned to impress his father when he was still an elfling, flipping the blade and catching it to present to Weatherby Swann.

"Impressive, very impressive. Now, Commodore Norrington is going to be very pleased with this. Do pass my compliments on to your Master. Hmm?"

Will smiled. He had better be good at forging after listening to all of Gimli's rants. "I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."

Just then, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and when he looked up, he saw an amazingly stunning Elizabeth making her way down. The fabric flowed elegantly over her and she had no trouble, even with the dress' length, gracefully descending the stairs. That was his Elizabeth, always looking beautiful, no matter what she did. Wait, his?

"Oh, Elizabeth. You look _absolutely_ stunning," said the governor, jarring Will out of his thoughts.

But the governor's daughter only had eyes for one person. The one she utterly adored. "Will! It's so good to see you!" She smiled. "I had a dream about you last night."

"A-about me?" Will stuttered. This was a first for him. Not that he thought no one had ever dreamed about him (as an elf, he was inherently beautiful), but no one, especially Elizabeth, had ever told him that abruptly.

Governor Swann's thoughts seemed to be more hesitant. "Yes, well, is that entirely proper for you to..?"

Of course, Elizabeth paid her father no mind and continued on to Will, "About the day we met, do you remember?"

"How could I forget, Miss Swann?" It was, after all, his first memory as Will Turner.

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" she kindly said in a soft voice.

And how he would love to, but as her father was there and he didn't want to risk his wrath, he said: "At least once more, Miss Swann, as always."

Her smiled dropped like a bird shot out of the sky. He knew he would have to answer for that. Elizabeth was spoiled by her father. She was used to getting her way.

Her father, on the other hand, was very pleased with his answer. "There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety. Now, we really must be going. There you are." He prepared to leave.

Elizabeth turned to him and coldly said, "Good day, Mr. Turner."

She then followed her father when he said "Come along."

"Good day..." Will blurted awkwardly, but she probably didn't catch it as she had just left... He watched her ride off in her carriage. "...Elizabeth..."

Will left a bit (quite a bit) disappointed. He hadn't meant to offend the woman he had feelings for and potentially loved. But he didn't want to have to step lightly around her either. She may be the first woman he's fallen for this much, but that didn't mean he was going to worship the ground on which she walked. She would have to grow up and learn to get over it.  
He went back to the forge and his lodgings and headed to the washroom. He had noticed a few blond hairs gleaming in the sunlight as he walked home. That was not good at all. He prepared the formula he had learned from a Roman fellow named Galen several years back. As he worked on applying it to his hair, he lost himself in his maze of a mind once more.  
He didn't really know why he started dyeing his hair. It might have been because he was bored of the color black. Or maybe it was because he was a little paranoid and due to a painting done of him in the thirteenth century whose whereabouts he lost track of that could surface anywhere and the people would recognize him. The excuse that it was an ancestor only worked so many times. The last time this had happened, a woman had come dangerously close to figuring out who and what he was (how, he had no idea) and he certainly did not want to risk that again.

* * *

He went back out to the forge and checked on his master, making sure he was alright and hadn't fallen and hurt himself again. Good, he was still sleeping. Still.  
It wasn't that his master was lazy, per say, and he was actually quite smart and a master craftsman who Will, for all his knowledge, had learned much from. He had just taken to alcohol like a dog to a bone (or in the Port Royal's prison's case, a set of keys) after the death of his brother. These days, all he did was sleep, eat, drink, dictate, and take credit for all of William's hard work.  
There was a list on his supply table. Oh, so his master had actually done something useful today! He had done an inventory of the tools and materials and made a list of all the things they needed. Of course, he hadn't gone and gotten any of these, but it was an improvement to his normal activities.

He would have to get all of these chores done before night time, though. People thought he was odd because he wouldn't venture out during the night, but they didn't know his reason. You see, when the moon shone upon William Turner's skin, something happened - something changed. He didn't turn into a werewolf or grow fangs. No, he wasn't that lucky. What happened to him was a cursed mutation into a skeletal beast with raggedy clothes and rotting flesh. It was a disgusting sight and was an even more disgusting experience.  
He couldn't enjoy the moonlight or gaze at the stars because of this, and he was really starting to despise this curse. But he could do naught about it now; the medallion was lost, probably at the bottom of the sea, and he would never see Isla de Muerta again.  
An eternity of this, though, and the awful loneliness that came with it, was a little too much for him. He didn't know if he could survive it. Well, he would have to. Now, not only was he an immortal elf, but he was also an infallible skeleton.


	4. Chapter 3: Pirates Ye Be Warned

A/N: And another chapter. Welcome back to anyone bothering to read. Just in case anyone was wondering, this is five years after Hector Barbossa's mutiny. Hang on while we go a little canon, but this is where we begin to steer off track. Oh, and I'm movieversing this fic for now.

Chapter 3: Pirates Ye Be Warned

News traveled quickly in Port Royal. It was only an hour after the event occurred and Will already knew about the threatening of Ms. Swann. When he had heard that _Jack Sparrow_, of all people, was the pirate rampaging around the city, causing such a ruckus, he was taken aback. He never thought he'd see Jack again. Actually, he'd hoped not to because even though he considered the pirate a friend, where he went, trouble soon followed. But maybe he wouldn't see Jack, although he didn't know what he'd do if the man was imprisoned. He would probably do something irrational like break him out. Will may have been many things, but disloyal was not one of them.

He wanted to stay out of this mess, but something told him that was not going to happen. At the same time Elizabeth had been threatened by the pirate, a darkness started creeping into his mind; it was a terrible, foreboding feeling that left him paranoid and nervous. What was going to happen?

He walked back into the forge, calmed the frightened animal, and took off his coat while striding over to check on his master. Of course, he was still asleep or utterly drunk, whatever you want to call it.

"Right where I left you," he said.

Then he turned to see a hammer on the anvil. "Not where I left you..." Glancing around, he saw a hat sitting on the table. Could that be? It looked exactly like the hat that sat perched upon a certain proud captain's head. It was a hat he cherished and he wouldn't just leave it there. That meant Jack had to be somewhere nearby. Somewhere in the shop.

He reached for the hat and heard the chime of a blade swiping through the air, but he did nothing to avoid it. Jack wouldn't kill him. Or Will thought he wouldn't. Anyway, Jack wouldn't be able to kill Will, given what he was.

He feigned a look of surprise and said, "You're the one they're hunting... the _pirate_!"

Jack squinted at him, a familiar confused look (that Jack wore quite frequently) on his face. "You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?"

Will was honestly baffled by the fact that his own captain, his own friend, didn't recognize him. Maybe it was the beard...

He didn't show his thoughts though. "I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates."

Jack smiled a bit strangely in a Jack fashion. "Ah. Then it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record. So if you'll excuse me ..."

One side of Will was all for letting him go. The other questioned what would happen if Elizabeth had discovered his treachery? She would scorn him. The whole port would. He would probably be thrown into prison with the bugger. Now Will was fiercely loyal to a fault - so loyal that he would die a hundred times and submit himself to the worst torture to save his friends. But Jack had threatened Elizabeth, so right now he was not in a good place in Will's heart. That's why Will grabbed one of the hundreds of swords in the smithy and stabbed the air right in front of Jack Sparrow.

"Do you this wise, boy? Crossing blades with a pirate?"

Of course it wasn't - for anyone else. Right now Will was feeling a little stir crazy. He was done with talking. He wanted to fight someone in a real battle. He hadn't done so in around five years. And Ms. Swann's life had been on the line at the hands of this pirate... so there wasn't a thing anyone could do to stop him from teaching Jack a lesson. Others may have thought it was unwise to do such a thing because he was supposedly a lot less experienced, but no. Will would have to tone it down to just Jack's level. He smirked inwardly at the thought.

"You threatened Ms. Swann."

"Only a little," Jack smirks as he taunts Will with his blade.

Their eyes met for a moment and then Jack attacked, pushing Will back. Will was on the defence, but he quickly remedied that. He parried strike after strike and then went for the kill he knew Jack would avoid. As angry as he was, he didn't want to kill the pirate. Now he was offensive. Then Jack paused to prattle cockily:

"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that... Excellent form... But how's your footwork?" he lunged. "If I step here -"

Will easily countered. Of course, Jack smirked again. "Very good. And now I step again." And again the battle was short as Jack manoeuvred himself towards the door. "Ta."

He sheathed his sword and ran for the door and opened it slightly, shutting it again when two soldiers passed by.

He wasn't going to get away easily, though. William looked at his sword and then at the door and with perfect aim, hurled it at the door. It buried itself in the wood just above the latch and when Jack tried to pull it, it wouldn't budge. Will smirked as Jack struggled, tugging and rattling the door with ire. Then he turned back to a smiling blacksmith's apprentice.

"That is a wonderful trick," he said, walking back towards Will triumphantly. "But once again, you are between me and my way out, and now, you have no weapon."

Will looked around for something to use. His eyes caught one of the swords in the fire and he grabbed it, whipping it around to face Jack, whose eyes widened in - could it be? - fear. Will had never seen Jack look scared before. He was always the carefree captain with a plan that usually never went wrong. Usually. Will would have taken this as a testament to his own strength if he were any bit arrogant, but he had only acted that way around Gimli, oh so long ago.

They threw themselves back into motion, spinning around the pole, weaving between attacks, and trying as hard as they could to disarm each other. Finally, Jack flung the chain around his wrist at Will and caught his sword. He tossed the weapon to the side. Will grabbed another and entered battle once more.

"I do!"

Jack looks at the "younger" man. "You need to find yourself a girl, mate." With that, Will's attacks became fiercer. That had always been a tender subject, even when talking with Aragorn and Gimli. Jack smirked as the fight continued. "Or maybe the reason you practice three hours a day is because you've already found one and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet." Jack feigned a disgusted look and looked down. "You're not a eunuch, are you?"

Will furiously barked back, "I practice three hours a day so that when I meet a pirate... I can kill it!"

He then swiped at Jack's stomach, but he dodged and backed up onto a cart that started to sway under them. Undeterred, they continued to swing their weapons at each other until Will hooked a blade through the hook in Jack's chains and embedded it in the beam above them.

Jack still flung his sword, trying in vain to hit Will Turner. Then he stepped on a loose board that flew up, hit his opponent on the face, and knocked him on his back. When he tried to reach Jack, once again on the cart, the pirate fell (he had pulled himself up to try and break free) and the blacksmith was flung onto the rafters.

Jack got back on the see saw to fight Will once more, but the man was gone. Where was he? Jack looked up. Oh. The marauder smirked, but Will wasn't done yet. He chopped the ropes of a heavy sac and down it went. Right onto the other side of the board.

Now it was Jack's turn to be hurled upwards. He just barely managed to grab one of the wooden beams before he fell back down and he heaved himself up. Will and Jack now fought jumping from beam to beam in what looked like a difficult fashion. Will didn't know about Jack, but for him, this was easy. Due to his natural grace as well as warriors' balance and skill, he easily hopped around. He had coasted down a flight of stairs on a shield while shooting arrows at his enemies and didn't lose his footing! This was nothing compared to that.

Their swords clinked and clashed and they swung down to the ground once more. Jack had lost his sword and he looked for another weapon - anything - and he found sand. He released a torrent down on Will, but he dodged to the right, spun, and jerked the sword through the air to rest at Jack's throat. Jack dropped the bag, smiled sheepishly, and put his hands up. Will had won.

"Looks like you lose, _pirate_," Will said arrogantly. Jack sighed and clasped his hands, shoving them in front of the boy.

"Well, you have me then. Do with me as you please," he said, closing his eyes and turning his head away for dramatic effect.

Will rolled his eyes. Jack was such a drama queen. He sighed and re sheathed his blade. He wasn't exactly happy with Jack, but he wasn't so angry that he would let the man suffer the gallows. He then stepped to the side and gestured to the door.

Jack just stood there like an idiot and gaping slightly at Will. What happened to the whole 'I want to kill pirates with my lovely sword flailing'?

Will raised a brow, "_Well_? What are you waiting for?"

Jack looked at Will, then looked at the door, then looked back at Will before waving as he zoomed past the boy. "Mate, I don't think you're as galled by pirates as you'd like to think. Hell, you're well on your way to becoming one, what with the aiding and abetting."

Before the other man could respond, he slipped out the door and rushed away to who knows where. Several moments later, mauled by the might of the Royal Navy's new commodore. And here came another nuisance.

"Commodore," Will said, adopting an innocent facade. "What is so urgent that you found it necessary to knock my door down?"

"Turner," Norrington said, making no move to hide his disdain for the man. "You may have heard that we're looking for a pirate. Have you stumbled upon one?"

Will shook his head. "No, sir. I haven't seen much of anyone recently... well, anyone sober," he glanced at his master.

"Interesting. We received word that there were odd noises coming from your forge. Specifically, the sounds of a duel," Norrington drawled.

The blacksmith laughed nervously. "Haha, I assume it's very noisy here most of the time. And I understand how it could sound like swords clashing, what with the hammer, the blade, and the anvil."

The commodore didn't seem to buy it. "Then why did you not answer the door?"

"I'm sorry, I must not have heard it. It won't happen again."

Norrington looked at him warily. "You know, Mr. Turner," He stepped towards Will and straightening to his full height to intimidate him, "I don't quite believe you."

"It's not up to me what you believe or don't believe. I cannot disprove the fact that there might have been a pirate in here, but you cannot prove it. He's not here now, though, as you can see. So I'd suggest you continue your search elsewhere." Will stood dauntless in the face of the man's ire.

The Navy man's face darkened and he glared at William before backing down and heading back out to the street to search for his man. Ha, his man. Will laughed at his pathetic joke. Really, it was _pathetic. _

Will heard later that the pirate had been detained after all. He sighed - he seems to do that a lot, doesn't he? - and went back to his work when he was told. There was not much he could do for his friend right now. He might be able to talk the guards into giving him better food, but that was about it. He would figure out what to do later.

But later he was busy. The attack came quickly. There was cannon fire, and then a flood of pirates on the port. Will heard them before the others and ran outside (Luckily, it was cloudy and none could see his ghastly other form) to see what he could do. He obviously had to warn people, but it seemed it was too late. The pirates had already begun to overrun the town, pillaging and plundering. One went for a woman in a nightgown, but Will nailed him in the back with an axe. After he retrieved the axe, he ran down the street, taking as many pirates down as he could. But something was nagging him.

He... he recognized these pirates. They were thinner and gaunter, but it was absolute. This was the crew of the Black Pearl. The same one that laughed as he sank to the depths of the sea. He turned around furiously, looking back at the ones he had "killed". He was right in his thinking that he hadn't actually killed them, only knocked them to the ground.

Oh dear. This was going to be some night.

He fought and fought the immortals, sustaining so many injuries that would be life threatening if he weren't undying as well. He remembered being felled by a bottle to the back of his head, but it had hindered him for only a moment. He got back up and saved as many citizens as he could handle, but it was never good enough. It was first light when the pirates all retreated and the port had lost many, many men and women. He helped the soldiers clean up after the mess the pirates had left before he heard one thing he desperately wished was a rumor only.

Elizabeth was gone.


End file.
